


Orientation to Cohabitation

by dearzoemurphy



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Britta Perry, Bisexual Jeff Winger, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Implied Sexual Content, Living Together, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearzoemurphy/pseuds/dearzoemurphy
Summary: or; how the remaining Nipple Dippers move into apartment 303 and what happens after that.A series of vignettes about life at Greendale after Annie and Abed leave.
Relationships: Britta Perry/Jeff Winger, Dean Craig Pelton/Jeff Winger, Frankie Dart/Britta Perry, Frankie Dart/Britta Perry/Jeff Winger/Dean Craig Pelton
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	Orientation to Cohabitation

**Author's Note:**

> this is maaaaaybe the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, and I have no regrets!! hope you all enjoy this little AU that fell out of my brain this week <3
> 
> (title inspired by [ Cohabitation Orientation ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987773) by BrittaTheBest)

Britta wasn’t exactly sure how the remaining Nipple Dippers all ended up living with her in apartment 303.

It started with Frankie, about a week after Annie and Abed moved out, when she mentioned to Britta that her lease was up.

“My unit has pretty bad water damage, and there’s these awful neighbors that are always practicing with their rock band at unholy hours of the night. I should leave, but searching for apartments is such a pain,” she’d said over giant fishbowl margaritas one happy hour at The Vatican.

“You should move in with me,” Britta said without missing a beat. She had grown accustomed to living with others and wasn’t doing well on her own. Plus, being able to split the rent with someone else would be a nice bonus.

Frankie gave her a shy smile. “You sure?”

“Positive! It’ll be nice to have a roommate again,” Britta said.

“Because you need help paying rent?”

Britta’s face twisted up into a sheepish smile as she looked down at the countertop. “Maybe. But-” she started, “I also hate living alone.”

Frankie reached across the bar and rested a hand on top of one of Britta’s. “I’ll take you up on the offer. It’ll be…fun. I haven’t had a roommate since college,” she said.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat. I’m the best roommate in the world,” Britta said confidently.

Somehow, Frankie doubted that. But she did really want to move out of her current place, and it had felt a little extra empty lately. Maybe this could be the start to a whole new chapter of her life.

Little did she know, it was the start to a whole new story.

\---

So Frankie’s presence made complete sense.

Next was Jeff, whom Britta had started hooking up with again not long after Frankie moved in.

“We don’t have to have a serious conversation about this, right?” she’d asked him the first night that they ended up tangled between her sheets, Jeff holding her closer than anyone had held her in a long time.

“We’ve been under a lot of stress lately. We’re lonely. We’re grieving,” Jeff replied vaguely, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb.

So they didn’t talk about it any more. Once a week became three times a week became Britta being unable to sleep without him by her side. Every morning when they woke up, Jeff would try to slip out so that he could go for his morning run. Britta would convince him to stay for breakfast. He would put on fake resistance until Britta gave him a certain disappointed frown. It was an effortlessly choreographed routine. They’d emerge from her room and Frankie wouldn’t say anything from where she stood over the stove, cooking eggs and hashbrowns and vegan sausage for Britta. Frankie actually never said anything about what was going on between the two of them, deciding to mind her own business and accept the fact that she was likely going to end up having two roommates.

It wasn’t long before Jeff’s things slowly started migrating to the apartment; his silverware filling in the gaps of Britta’s collection, his chargers joining the pile on her bedside table. She had stolen almost half of his sweatshirt collection before proposing the idea of him moving in purely out of convenience.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense? I mean, do you want to keep paying for an apartment that you never sleep in anymore?” Britta asked one night while they were watching reruns of The Office with Frankie.

Jeff hummed, adjusting the way his arm was draped over her shoulders. “I guess. Is there even enough room here for all of my stuff, though?”

“We can make room.”

“Where?”

“We have a mostly empty linen closet,” Frankie offered.

Britta nodded, gesturing towards Frankie for emphasis. “Come on, you practically live here anyway! Even if we don’t have enough room for everything, it would be cheaper to pay for a storage unit rather than a whole apartment,” she reasoned.

“Why are you so desperate for me to move in?” Jeff asked lightly.

“I don’t know. I like spending so much time with you. And Frankie,” she replied, gesturing towards where the brunette was sitting in their armchair, “I like not sleeping alone.”

A moment of silence.

“Okay. I’ll talk to my landlord,” was all he said in response.

He liked not sleeping alone as well. The dark had been a little scarier since their friends had left.

A week later, Jeff was the proud renter of a nearby storage unit and a happy member of apartment 303. Britta thought that their current arrangement was the closest she’d ever get to paradise. Especially on the rare nights when they would drink themselves silly and crash into her bed together, a tangle of limbs and blankets and hot breath, Frankie giggling with her face pressed into Britta’s shoulder as Jeff played with her hair.

\---

So, Britta supposed that Jeff living with her made a decent amount of sense. What should have made less sense was why she had started to let Chang sleep on her old daybed.

After one particular group game night where there had been a little more drinking than there was gaming, he’d asked to sleep over so that he didn’t have to drive himself home. Britta agreed, scrounging up spare pillows and blankets to make up the bed for him.

The next morning as he and the residents of apartment 303 were eating breakfast together, he remarked, “It sure was nice to sleep in a real bed.”

Britta tilted her head to the side in confusion. “What, do you not have one?”

Chang scoffed. “Of course not. What do you think I am, made of money? I’m still living at Greendale.”

“You should move in with us. Just until you find something more…permanent,” she offered without a second thought.

Jeff and Frankie turned to glare at her. How could Britta possibly think this would end? But they couldn’t argue; her name was on the lease, so she called the shots.

“Really? You would let me do that?” Chang asked in a tone so hopeful that all of the residents’ apprehensions disappeared. The more the merrier, they supposed.

“Yeah. Of course. Anything for a friend,” Britta assured him.

\---

Maybe that made a little more sense than Britta would care to admit. Chang was a veritable charity case, and she had always had a weakness for those. But she never could have foreseen allowing Craig to take up residence in the spot where Troy and Abed’s pillow fort had once been.

“I’m looking for a cheaper place to live…my landlord has been hiking rent like it’s going out of style,” he said one night when the group was out drinking at The Vatican.

“You should move in. With us,” Jeff suggested. A suggestion he only made because he was more than a few drinks in.

Britta nodded in agreement, since she was also a little less than sober. “Absofruitly! There’s this open space between my room and the bathroom. We could make something work,” she said.

Frankie snorted. “How long before all of us live in that little apartment?”

“I’m fine living in my RV,” Elroy said, “You guys have fun with sharing one bathroom and becoming increasingly annoyed with each other’s personal habits.”

The next morning, Britta woke up to the Dean at their door, a box of personal belongings in hand, the rest outside in his car. Her hungover self agreed to let him in, hungover Jeff helping to make a cozy place for him.

“How did I end up going from no roommates to four,” Frankie muttered as she sipped her morning coffee.

Britta grabbed Frankie’s mug right out of her hand and took a large swig from it. “Welcome to life at Greendale.”

\---

At that point, it only made sense for Elroy to start parking his van outside their building. And it only made further sense for the group to buy an old bunk bed off of Craigslist, Jeff refurbishing it so that Craig and Elroy could use it whenever the older man didn’t feel like trekking back down to his van at the end of the night, despite his previous statement against cohabiting with the group.

So maybe Britta was sure how she ended up living in a small, two bedroom apartment with her five closest friends. It seemed absolutely absurd on paper. But in practice, it made a strange amount of sense. Elroy had been right to be concerned about the difficulties that come with sharing one bathroom, mostly due to how Jeff would hog it for his hour long showers and to complete his 12-step skincare routine. But the idea of splitting themselves between two or more apartments never even entered the conversation. They liked living together, spending all of their free time with one another, coming home at the end of the day to lots of friendly and familiar faces. It was something that none of them had ever had before.

It wasn’t what one would typically picture when thinking of domestic bliss, but it was all they could ever want and more.

\---

“Sup, bitches! I made dinner,” Chang exclaimed upon hearing the front door swing open.

“You can cook?!” Britta asked incredulously. Frankie chuckled, filing into the apartment closely behind her. The two of them carpooled with Jeff to and from Greendale, the Dean having hired Britta as an unlicensed student counselor. She was happy because she had a new job and he was happy that he didn’t have to pay her the rate of a licensed professional.

“I don’t think I’ll be eating any of that,” Jeff said, shrugging his coat off and hanging it on the rack by the door.

Britta swatted him on the arm. “Be nice! We’re at least going to try it. I’m sure he worked very hard on…whatever it is.”

“I made fettuccine alfredo with grilled chicken,” Chang chimed in.

The trio looked at one another, hoping that they wouldn’t have to be the first one to respond.

“That sounds…fancy,” Frankie said, stepping up to the plate.

They were left to set the table in relative silence, waiting for Elroy and Craig to return from a staff meeting as Chang finished preparing the dish. There was a palpable tension hanging in the air, all apartment residents who weren’t him being slightly on edge. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust the cooking of someone with an extensive criminal record who had once duped them into believing that he had amnesia to avoid the consequences of staging a military coup at Greendale that, for inexplicable reasons, now lived with them. It was just that they didn’t have any reason to believe in his cooking abilities.

“Good evening, my deanlightful roommates! I-”

“Chang made us all dinner,” Jeff cut him off, wanting Craig to be aware of the situation.

“Oh, good lord,” Elroy grumbled, unable to help himself as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hey, please withhold your judgement until after the meal, thanks,” Chang called from the kitchen. He was plating up the pasta and chicken, having Frankie carry them over to the round table across the room.

“White wine? White wine? White wine?” Jeff asked, pointing around the room at each of his friends. Britta eagerly nodded, answering for all of them.

“Where did you learn to cook?” Craig asked, trying to take a genuine interest in his roommate’s apparent hobby.

“Mama Chang taught me the basics. It’s been a while since I’ve had access to a non-school kitchen, so I haven’t been able to do a lot of experimenting,” he said. Everyone in the room visibly tensed, prompting him to add, “I didn’t do any experimenting with the pasta. I was saying that I haven’t. Experimented.”

His roommates all slowly congregated around the table, taking their seats one by one. The food looked edible, but there was still a level of general anxiety among them. Jeff brought over six glasses of wine and set one in front of each of his friends, being the last to take a seat.

“To Chang, the founder of this feast,” Jeff said, raising his glass to offer up a toast.

“To Chang!” the others echoed, a small smile spreading across his face as they clinked all of their glasses together. After taking long sips of wine, they knew it was time to dig in.

Chang was watching them all apprehensively, waiting for someone to make a move. Jeff gave a nearly imperceptible sigh, realizing that this responsibility was falling on his shoulders. He twirled some of the pasta around his fork and slowly raised it to his mouth, the whole group looking at him intently.

“Wow, this is…this is _good_.”

“You mean it?” Chang asked hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. This is really, really good,” Jeff said earnestly, unable to keep the shock and surprise out of his voice.

Britta decided that the Winger seal of approval was enough, cutting a bite of pasta and spearing a piece of chicken.

“Oh my god, this _is_ really good!”

The rest of their roommates decided that the Winger-Perry seal of approval was enough and all dug in, each having their own moments of delighted surprise.

“This is the best dinner we’ve had in a while,” Elroy said, “No offense to your cooking, Britta.”

“None taken,” she grumbled into her wine glass.

“I’d be happy to do this more often,” Chang offered.

“We’d be happy if you did,” Frankie said with a warm smile, “No offense, Britta.”

“None taken.”

So they sat around the table, eating Chang’s pasta dish, trying not to think about how long it had been since they’d had a real family dinner like this.

\---

“So Jeff is going on a date tonight? With Craig?” Frankie asked incredulously.

Britta shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen counter with a yogurt parfait. “Yeah. Took them long enough, right?” she said, nonchalantly scooping up a spoonful of her yogurt.

Frankie tilted her head to the side, face scrunching up in confusion. “I thought you and Jeff were together.” She finished making her appletini and came around the bar, taking a seat next to Britta.

“We’re not. I mean, kind of. The three of us talked about it, we’re all okay with not being exclusive,” Britta replied.

“Even though you and Jeff sleep in the same bed every night?” Frankie asked, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Yeah. If Craig ever wants to swap out, all he has to do is ask,” Britta replied casually.

Frankie was still confused by the situation and Britta’s cavalier attitude towards the whole thing, but decided to let it go for the time being.

“Alright. Makes perfect sense,” she lied.

Britta cracked a smile, spooning up more of her parfait. “You seeing anyone lately?” she asked.

“No. Not in quite a long time.”

“Really?! Why not?” Britta exclaimed, honestly shocked.

Frankie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. I’ve just had more important things to do than try to date. Everything is so complicated nowadays,” she said with a deep sigh.

Britta finished her yogurt and set the spoon down in the container, pushing it to the other side of the counter. “It’s not so complicated. All you have to do is get on the right apps. Or hit up the right bars,” she offered, a glint in her eye.

“I get what you’re saying. I can't really be attracted to people that I don’t know well, though. I like to be friends with my partners first,” Frankie explained.

“That makes sense,” Britta said, nodding, “So, do you find any of your friends attractive?”

“I mean…you guys are really my only friends.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Are you just asking if I find you attractive?”

Britta’s mouth quirked up into a sly smile. “Maybe. If you don’t want to answer the question, that’s fine. I just-”

“You are a very beautiful woman. And one of my closest friends,” Frankie said, trying to maintain a neutral facade.

“Cool,” Britta said, smile growing, “Cool, cool. Cool, cool, cool. You’re gorgeous, too.”

“Oh, I never said you were gorgeous,” Frankie retorted playfully.

Britta scooted her chair closer to her roommate’s, leaning in close enough that their faces were almost touching.

“Oh, really? Did you mean that?” she said, barely above a whisper.

Frankie’s mouth twisted up into a curious kind of smile. “Of course I did. I refuse to say anything that I don’t mean,” she said, demurely placing one hand on top of the other in her lap.

Neither one of them was sure who cupped who’s chin first or how their lips connected. All Frankie knew was that Britta tasted almost sickly sweet, like strawberries, and honey drizzled over granola.

\---

“Hey. What’s she doing here?” Jeff grumbled sleepily, vaguely gesturing to the Frankie-shaped lump on his side of the bed.

“Sleeping here tonight,” Britta replied simply. Frankie gave a vague mutter in agreement.

“Well then, scoot over,” he requested, flapping his arms uselessly towards the pair.

“You could just go sleep in her bed,” Britta protested, pressing herself further into Frankie’s side anyway.

“But I don’t want to. I can’t sleep alone anymore,” Jeff almost whined. He slid under the covers and lazily draped one arm over Britta, fingertips brushing against Frankie’s arm. “Why aren’t you guys in Frankie’s bed, anyway?”

“Didn’t feel like moving,” Britta said, giving him a sleepily triumphant smile.

A look of realization crossed Jeff’s face as he glanced between the two women. “Wait. You…and…oh, shit,” he stammered.

“Mhm,” Frankie hummed happily.

Jeff shook his head, Britta moving to rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arms tightly around his waist.

“How was your date?”

“Good. Great. He took me to a karaoke bar,” Jeff replied.

“A karaoke bar? Really?” Frankie murmured, Britta trying to mask a snicker.

“Yeah, a karaoke bar! At least he bought me drinks before we hooked up while my other roommates were out on a date,” he scoffed.

“That was uncalled for,” Britta said, nipping at Jeff’s earlobe in protest. He grumbled as she started planting lazy kisses on his neck, occasionally stopping to suck at his more sensitive spots.

“You think we’ll ever have a foursome?” he asked, a certain innocent curiosity to his voice.

“I refuse to touch you or Craig sexually,” Frankie said firmly.

“Fair enough. We can make it work,” Jeff said, reaching over to pat her on the arm as Britta tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

“I think we’d need a bigger bed,” Britta observed.

“Who said anything about a bed?”

\---

“You know, it makes sense to me now,” Frankie said one day when she was lounging by the community pool next to Britta.

“Oh?” the blonde said, lowering her sunglasses.

“Yeah. You and Jeff having a casual relationship and Craig being okay with it.”

Britta’s mouth was tugged up into a wry smile. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m okay with it,” Frankie said, turning towards Britta to smile back.

Britta sat up so that she could lean over to Frankie’s lounge chair, taking her face between her hands and kissing her gently.

“I hope you know that none of this is casual. I care about you both so, so much,” she corrected, “I care about everyone in our apartment a lot, actually.”

Frankie nodded. “I do know. I only used the term ‘casual’ since none of us are using labels at the moment.”

“We can if you want,” Britta offered, one eyebrow quirking upwards.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe we should talk to Jeff and Craig first. Have the conversation that we’ve so far avoided.”

The other woman laughed, shaking her head as she sunk back into her chair. “Something tells me that Jeff wants to keep avoiding it,” she remarked.

Frankie gave her a sideways smile and adjusted her sunhat. “I don’t know, he can be full of surprises.”

\---

As it turned out, she had been right.

About a week later, Craig, Jeff, Britta, and Frankie had to attend a gala for a professor who was retiring. Or a cafeteria worker that was getting a prestigious award. Or something for someone else. (None of them really knew, they had pregamed a little too much to care.)

Actually, it was definitely something more important than that. The event was being held in a place other than the Greendale cafeteria and members of the board would be in attendance, meaning that it must be funded by some other organization. Who knows, the group still didn’t care.

An essential part of these sorts of events was the handshaking and socialization with all of the other faculty and staff. The social dance reminded Jeff a little too much of his former life and thus, bothered him to no end, but out of all of his friends, he was the best at it. Craig tended to get anxious in these sorts of situations, Frankie didn’t like saying any more than she had to say, and Britta didn’t like having to look lots of strangers in the eye.

So they were having one such interaction, all shaking hands with a new member of the board and letting Jeff do the talking.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jeff Winger. These are my partners, Britta Perry and Craig Pelton. And our friend, Frankie Dart,” he said.

His roommates all froze. Had Jeffery “afraid of commitment” Winger just referred to two-thirds of them as his partners? Maybe he hadn’t meant it romantically. But he had been careful to refer to Frankie as a friend. It seemed rather deliberate, didn’t it?

This was a realization that slowly dawned on Jeff, who frantically pushed to get through the rest of the conversation. Once the polite amount of small talk had been made, the quartet waved goodbye and drifted towards a more secluded area of the room.

Jeff turned to look sheepishly at his friends, who were eyeing him with a certain amount of curiosity. “Hey, I’m sorry if that was weird, back there. The words just kind of…slipped out,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, Jeffery, I had no idea that you held us in that regard,” Craig said, beaming as he reached out to take Jeff’s hands in his.

Britta smiled broadly, leaning back into Frankie, who had wrapped her arms around the blonde’s waist to hold her close. “It’s only weird that you told that guy before you told us.”

Jeff snorted. “Fair enough,” he paused, “so…you guys do want to be… official?”

“You’re adorable,” Britta murmured, stepping forward to place one hand on top of Jeff and Craig’s, “and yes. Being official would be…nice.”

“Oh! That’s good to hear,” Jeff replied, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“I agree with Britta. I’m a little shocked that you were the one to bring it up the idea first, though,” Craig said.

Britta turned to smile at Frankie. “Jeff’s always been full of surprises,” she said warmly.

“I’ve never liked labels, but using them with you guys feels…comforting. I think I’m finally ready to settle down, in a way. Hell, I guess we already did, didn’t we?” he said, releasing Craig and Britta’s hands to drape his arms around their shoulders.

“We did, in our own special little way,” Frankie chimed in. Britta gestured for the brunette to join them, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Jeff gave her a gentle smile. “I think we should talk out the specifics of what we all are and figure out our boundaries. But honestly, I don’t have the mental capacity to handle that conversation right now,” he said.

Craig nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. Right now, I just want to go dance with all of you,” he said, tilting his head towards the unenthusiastic DJ and the nearly empty dance floor on the other side of the room.

“I quite like all of those ideas,” Frankie seconded.

So she closed the circle by moving her arm around the Dean, pulling all four of them together for a group hug with Jeff’s head resting on top of theirs. The details could be worked out later, but for now, Britta was just happy to be dancing the boring gala away with her girlfriend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s boyfriend.

\---

“So…what is your arrangement, exactly?” Elroy asked, puzzled as he observed Jeff, Britta, Frankie, and Craig all practically piled on top of each other on the couch.

Not long after the gala, the quartet had their promised conversation and defined exactly what they all were to each other and decided how to go about their relationship. Since then, they had entered the most blissful honeymoon phase any of them had ever experienced. Frankie had migrated most of her things to Britta’s room, sleeping with her most nights to leave her previous room open for Jeff and Craig. Sometimes, Jeff and Britta still slept in Britta’s bed, leaving Frankie to hers for the night and Craig to his bunk bed. Sometimes, they all Tetris'd themselves into one bed. Sometimes, they would fall asleep sprawled out over the couch and the bean bags that Chang had insisted on buying, lazily tangling themselves together with a terrible movie still running in the background.

“I’m dating Britta, who’s dating Jeff, who’s dating Craig,” Frankie answered pragmatically. Britta nodded along, nuzzling her head into Frankie’s shoulder.

“So that means Elroy and I are the eligible bachelors of the pad, huh,” Chang said excitedly.

“I suppose so,” Jeff hummed in agreement.

“We should go out on the town, find other bachelors or bachelorettes for you both,” Craig suggested.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m good without all of that mess,” Elroy said, shaking his head.

“I’m in,” Chang said simply.

“Oh my god, we should go to The Vatican tomorrow night!” Britta exclaimed, “They’re having a Lady Gaga impersonator come in and perform.”

“Stereotyping the people that you expect to be there, much?” Jeff asked, lightly poking her in the side. Britta only childishly stuck her tongue out at him in response.

“Um, I think there’s something I have to tell you all…” Craig interjected, trailing off.

“What is it, babe?” Jeff asked, idly running his hand along the side of his boyfriend’s arm.

“The Lady Gaga impersonator…it’s me.”

\---

As it turned out, Craig had been perfecting his act for years. He sang, he danced, he had a nearly ridiculous amount of costume changes. All were almost flawless, each number earning him ridiculous amounts of applause from the unusually packed bar. As it turned out, he had a reputation good enough to draw a crowd.

The residents of apartment 303 were mostly keeping to themselves at a table in the back corner. The Vatican was a small enough venue that they could see the makeshift stage and Craig could see them just fine, so no one had any complaints.

Along with the makeshift stage came a makeshift dance floor. Along with the makeshift dance floor came patrons dancing. Among these patrons was a particularly muscular man with wavy brown hair in a tight red jacket that Chang kept not-so-subtly eyeing.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy or just keep ogling him from afar?” Jeff eventually asked him, giving him a playful elbow in the side.

The other man gulped. “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess that I could go dance with him.”

“Yes, you totally should!” Britta exclaimed, giving him a light, friendly punch to the shoulder.

“Or don’t, if you don’t want to,” Elroy said, taking a large swig of his drink.

“No, I want to. I will. I’m a professional tango dancer and pop-’n’-locker. I’ve got this,” Chang said, swinging off of his barstool and popping the collar of his jacket in one fluid motion.

Jeff and Britta cheered as he strolled off to make his move, Frankie shaking her head at their antics.

“If he gets his heart broken, I give him full rights to blame you two,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be so cynical,” Jeff retorted, an ironic statement coming from him.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, babe! Everything will be just fine,” Britta assured, pressing a light kiss to Frankie’s cheek before turning back to watch the scene in front of them unfold.

Things seemed to be going alright, the mystery man and Chang now dancing side by side, seeming almost ritualistic in what they were doing.

“You youngsters. I’m too old for all of this crap,” Elroy said in an oddly affectionate tone.

“Not too old to have a good time!” Britta exclaimed, socking him in the arm before scouting out a roaming bartender to order another round of drinks.

This went on for another song or so, the group drinking and watching Chang dance with the other man (rather well, they had to admit) before Craig interrupted his set with an announcement.

“This one goes out to my roommates, who are really more than that, at this point. They’re my life partners,” Craig said into the microphone, pausing to find them in the crowd, “I love you guys. I’m so grateful that I met each and every one of you.”

They each smiled back up at him, a million things they each wanted to say coming to the surface. One by one, all of them faded away as the opening chords of The Cure rang out through the tiny bar.

“C’mon, what are we still doing here?!” Jeff exclaimed, taking Britta by the hands and starting to shimmy over to the floor. She giggled at his tipsy enthusiasm, looking up to make sure that Frankie was following behind them. The brunette made sure to grab a grumbling Elroy and pull him onto the dance floor, though surprisingly little force was required to do so. Maybe some small part of him actually did want to dance with them.

“Hey, guys! I want you to meet Kevin,” Chang called over the sound of the music once they reached the dance floor, gesturing to the man dancing next to him.

“Hey, Kevin!” Britta called, releasing one of Jeff’s hands for a moment to give a small wave.

“Wasn’t that the name he went by when he had Changnesia?” Jeff whispered close to her ear. Britta’s face contorted with the unfortunate realization, but quickly shrugged it off.

“It was. But let’s not worry about that right now,” she said.

And so, they didn’t. As Craig sang “if I can’t find the cure, I’ll fix you with my love”, Jeff pulled Britta close with one arm and pulled Frankie in with the other, letting Elroy envelop the trio in the best hug that he could. They swayed in time to the thumping bass, Chang drifting closer and closer to the group until him and Kevin were swaying along with them too.

“Promise I’ll always be there, promise I’ll be the cure,” the Dean sang.

_"My family_ is _the cure, isn't it,"_ Britta thought, practically bubbling over with joy. 

She relished in dancing another night away with her partners and her friends, enjoying Craig's unbelievably good Lady Gaga impression, entirely unable to stop herself from thinking about how happy she would be if the rest of her life was full of nothing but nights like this.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, please leave any thoughts/opinions/etc. in the comments down below!!
> 
> I'm obsessed with the idea of poly Britta and Jeff, mostly because I love them and I love them being loved!! I know that this is probably the most Out There thing I've ever published, but I just adore this concept and wanted to put something about it out into the world. let me know any thoughts you may have about this universe, I'm interested to hear what people think!!
> 
> (also it's currently 2:39 am, so if the notes aren't very coherent, that's why)
> 
> ((someone should stop letting me publish things at 2:39 am))


End file.
